


From the Ashes

by Mr_Bilinski



Series: Morality Bites [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Action, F/M, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Romance, scira - Freeform, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-20 03:11:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3634455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Bilinski/pseuds/Mr_Bilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After defeating the Siren, the pack starts to settle back into normality. That is, until Stiles' and Derek's secret is forced into the open with a new supernatural development.</p><p>Formerly known as The Spark series, now Morality Bites</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was actually a part of the third part of the story in my original writing, but since I changed some major plot points in the story it wouldn't fit right. However, I'm rather fond of this scene, so I decided to use it as the prologue and luckily it fits really well and it turned out to be an excellent form of foreshadowing!

Stiles looked on from a distance as Scott stood by the headstone. His best friend's left hand gripped the headstone tightly, his head bowed and turned slightly toward the stone, obviously uttering words that Stiles couldn't hear.

Scott's brow furrowed as he smelled the concern wafting off of Stiles, but dismissed it with a short shake of his head as he continued talking. Stiles tilted his head as he cleared his throat when Scott's hand fell from the headstone and he started to head towards him.

"Everything okay?", Stiles asked as he looked up at Scott.

"Just filling her in," he replied with a shrug.

Stiles reached to scratch behind his neck with a slight grimace, "Uh, Scotty..." he started saying before Scott interrupted,

"Don't," he started before he shook his head, "I know what you're going to say. I've accepted she's dead, I'm just..."

"Not ready to say goodbye," Stiles finished with an understanding nod, "I'm not exactly a stranger to this situation, you know." He brought his hand from behind his neck and pulled the passenger door of his Jeep open, "Get in."

Scott looked from Stiles to the door and back before he arched a skeptical brow, "What?"

Stiles nodded toward the door, "Don't ask, just get in." When Scott released a soft sigh and got in the Jeep with a shake of his head, he shut the door behind him and walked around to the other side.

The two rode in a comfortable silence as Stiles drove across town until he pulled up to the Preserve and cut the engine. Stiles ignored Scott's questioning look as he got out and started to head for the woods. Scott softly growled in annoyance as he got out and followed. 

"Stiles, you do realize I've run about every inch of this place, right?" 

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Yeah, we used to come here as kids; but there's still one spot that no one's discovered--except me, obviously."

Scott smirked, "Stiles,"

Stiles stopped in his tracks and turned to his best friend, "Scott? Shut up, you're ruining the moment."

Scott furrowed his brow, "We were having a moment?"

Stiles threw his arms up in annoyance, "Will you--Alright, look, there's a spot I used to go to a lot whenever I needed to be cut off from the world after my mom passed away. Now, I'm trusting you to keep this a secret and not tell anyone else about this place."

Scott nodded with a shrug, "Alright, lead the way."

When Stiles tilted his head to the left, signaling Scott to follow his gaze, the werewolf's jaw clenched as his eyes fell on the Nemeton. He furrowed his brow and turned back to give Stiles a questioning look when his friend suddenly smirked and raised his hand.

Scott let out a surprised yell as he flew into the air and landed on his back atop the Nemeton. Stiles slowly stalked up to him and pulled out a double-edged knife from behind his back. He studied the blade with a sick smile, the light bouncing off the blade and traveling around his face as he turned the knife, at one point making his honey-brown eyes seem to glow.

Scott furrowed his brow as he struggled to get up, "Stiles...what the hell are you doing?'

Stiles kept his eyes on the blade as he replied nonchalantly, "Just trying to water my tree."

Scott arched a brow, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Stiles froze and slowly turned his head toward Scott before he widened his eyes as if he were shocked that he hadn't made the obvious connection, "Well, a tree needs nourishment to live, right?" He crouched down and softly caressed the side of the large stump, "And my tree requires special nourishment."

"Your tree?" Scott asked, "Stiles this is the Nemeton!"

"I know," he replied matter-of-factly. He suddenly smiled before he brought the blade up and swung it down into Scott's chest. 

He could still hear Scott's pained howl echo in his ears as he shot up in his bed with a start. As his rapid breathing began to slow down, he wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and stood up from his bed and headed into his bathroom to turn on the shower. 

It was only a dream, he thought.

As he wrapped the towel around his waist after his shower, he looked up to the fogged up mirror and felt his blood run cold. In the middle of the mirror was a single word written in the fog,

'DARACH'

His breathing hitched as he rose a shaky hand and pressed it to the surprisingly cold surface before he wiped his hand across it. When the Darach was staring back at him in the reflection, Stiles jumped back with a scream.

He shot up again in his bed, his breathing heavier than the last time. Stiles brought up his hands to make sure he had the right amount of fingers before he got up from the bed and padded over to look out his bedroom window, "What the hell is going on?"

After a few moments of breathing some fresh air, the teenager got back into bed and tried to go back to sleep, completely unaware of the ten small scorch marks on his covers.


	2. Harry Freaking Potter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm really excited about this story. 
> 
> This chapter is kind of a make-up for the lack of Sterek in the last story. Yay for development!

"So, what; you think the succubus left some kind of evil behind in you?" Derek asked after Stiles finished recounting his dream to him.

Stiles shrugged as he fell back against the couch, "I don't know. I mean, I don't think she left anything evil behind, but it was pretty obvious to me that I wanted to sacrifice Scott for something."

Derek shook his head before he looked at Stiles next to him, "Alright, so the Darach was sacrificing people to the Nemeton to get power to stop the Alpha Pack and get her revenge. And in your dream you were sacrificing Scott on top of it."

"'My tree', Derek. I called it 'watering my tree'." He sat up and looked at the werewolf, "I mean, how freaking creepy is that?"

Derek didn't answer immediately as he hesitantly reached his hand out before he finally let it rest on Stiles' knee. He lowered his head slightly so he could look him directly in the eyes, "Hey, listen to me. It was a dream, Stiles; it doesn't mean anything."

Stiles scoffed, "No, a dream about a banana split eating contest with a monkey doesn't mean anything, Derek. This--this one was pretty damn chock-full of meaning!"

The werewolf bit back a smirk, opting to remain silent and rubbing Stiles' knee comfortingly instead. After another minute he finally pulled out his cell and started to dial a number.

Stiles furrowed his brow as he watched Derek's thumb tap along the screen, "Uh...what're you doing?"

"Putting your mind at ease," he replied as he brought the phone up to his ear, "Deaton, it's Derek."

Stiles coughed, "Deaton? No, Derek, hang up."

Derek held up a finger to Stiles as he spoke to the former emissary on the phone, "Yeah, hold on," he looked at Stiles, "you're going."

Stiles snickered defiantly, "Like hell I am. Derek, I don't trust him!"

"He can hear you," Derek chastised as he covered the mouthpiece to the phone.

"I don't care," Stiles replied as he started to pace. "I'm not going and you can't make me."

"I'm sorry; are we four?"

Stiles' face darkened as he fixed Derek with a glare, "I'm not going."

Derek sighed in exasperation, "Stiles..."

"I said no!" Stiles shouted before Derek suddenly flew backward off the couch and into the wall behind him. Stiles jumped before he counted the fingers on his hands. Ten fingers, which means this was real. He wanted to throw Derek into a wall and he flew right into it.

But how?

Stiles' expression softened as he raced around the couch to help Derek stand. As the two looked at each other, Stiles put a hand behind his neck and said sheepishly, "So, Deaton?"

Derek stared at him dumbfounded for a moment before he replied with a nod and a simple, "Yeah."

 

\-------------------------------------

"Well, from the sounds of things, it would appear that Stiles here has somehow obtained powers," Deaton said after Derek finished recounting the day's events to him. He turned to Stiles, "Perhaps due to past experiences your dreams were just your mind warning you of what was happening."

Stiles stared at him awestruck, "Can we backtrack a little here? How the hell did I get magic powers? I'm the normal one of the pack!"

"Not anymore," Derek muttered.

Stiles pointed at Derek but kept his eyes on Deaton, "You hush."

Deaton suppressed a smirk as he pressed on, "Has anything happened to you lately that could have led to this new development?"

"No," he replied.

"Yes," Derek countered, eliciting an irritated groan from Stiles. When he wouldn't elaborate for Deaton, Derek leaned forward to rest his hands on the examining table, "Stiles was possessed by a succubus not too long ago."

"A succubus?" Deaton asked looking between the two males. He thought for a few moments before he nodded, "Well, it's possible that, being so close to the Nemeton, the possession would further ignite your Spark."

Stiles furrowed his brow, "Well, if that's the case then how come this didn't happen after the nogitsune situation?"

Deaton shrugged, "Well, the nogitsune was more about suppression whereas a succubus possession is normally more inclined toward fulfillment."

"Okay," Stiles said, "well, is there any way we can, like, undo it?"

Deaton eyed him sympathetically, "There's nothing to undo, Stiles. The succubus' presence inside of you nurtured your Spark and twisted it so that it was more supernaturally inclined. Any abilities you've gained from it have been inside you all along."

Stiles huffed as he fell into the chair behind him, "Great, so now I'm Harry freaking Potter." 

Deaton shook his head, "I'm sorry if this isn't what you wanted to hear, Stiles, but I'm afraid you're just going to have to learn how to control it."

Stiles crossed his arms as he tapped his foot against the floor while he weighed his options. He could sit and pout about the situation and spend an exhausting amount of hours researching it and trying to find an out, or he could just roll with it and worry about any bad consequences when they show up. 

He drew in a deep breath before he exchanged looks with Derek and Deaton, "Not a word of this to the rest of the pack. At least not until I find a way to break it to them."

Deaton nodded in agreement, "I can't foresee any imminent dangers to that. Now, if we are done here I have some more work to do."

Derek nodded to Deaton, "Of course."

When the two cleared out of the clinic, Derek turned to face Stiles, "Why don't you want to tell the pack?"

Stiles scoffed, "Are you freaking kidding me? And tell them what; I was possessed by a succubus because my unrequited love for you drew her to me? Yeah, that'll go over well."

Derek fixed him with a scowl, "We don't have to tell them that part."

"Of course we do, Derek," he replied. "We would need some kind of explanation for them and they'd know if we were lying. The truth is if we come out about my new power then we'll have to come out with...whatever it is we have going on between us. And I'm just not ready for that. We're not ready."

Derek nodded in agreement as he looked down. He watched as he brought his hand up and took hold of Stiles' hand before he looked into his brown eyes, "Then I guess I'm going to have to teach you how to control it then."

Stiles scoffed, happy that the debate was over, "Yeah, right. You're talking to the guy who taught Scott how to control his heart rate so he wouldn't shift."

Derek offered a cheeky smirk, "So, are you saying you want me to pelt you with balls until you can control your power?"

"No," Stiles replied as he put an arm around Derek's neck and walked with him toward the Jeep, "I'm just saying I'm a better teacher than you are."

It had been a week since they had visited Deaton and Stiles had made a lot of progress. He had better control over his telekinesis and, thanks to his ADHD, found out he could use it to lift his own body into the air to levitate. They still hadn't told the rest of the pack about his powers, which next to his power was a popular topic of discussion between the two, but Stiles was adamant to keep it between the two of them a little longer.

"I'm just saying," Derek said for maybe the thousandth time that week.

"I know what you're saying, Der. I hear ya loud and clear," Stiles said as he did another midair somersault while he was levitating.

Derek eyed him with an annoyed glare, "You'd be able to hear me more clearly down here."

"Maybe, but I can pretty much fill in the blanks," he replied with a cheeky grin until he eyed the werewolf's glare. He pouted slightly as he lowered himself back to the ground and put his hands on Derek's arms, "Look, we've been over this, like, a thousand times already. There's just no way to come out with this without telling them about the succubus and it's just too risky."

Derek furrowed his brow, "I don't think 'risky' is the right word."

"No," Stiles replied stubbornly, "I think it's the perfect word for it. This thing between us is a hell of alot easier to figure out without any outside interference. So, for the time being, they stay out of the loop and I'll just use my power as subtly as possible without them finding out."

"And if they catch you?"

Stiles thought for a moment before he sighed in resignation, "Then I'll come clean. So, can we please drop this?"

Derek eyed him apprehensively then nodded. Stiles smiled in response and gave him a peck on the cheek, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," the werewolf replied softly before Stiles took into the air again. He shook his head with a smirk as he crossed his arms.


	3. First Impressions Pt. 1

Stiles' head was pounding as he strained to lift his father's cruiser with his mind. He stood, arms crossed, his eyes narrowed in an attempt to focus more of his concentration on the car. He started to feel his patience waning the longer he stared at it.

Deputy Parrish walked by Stiles and nodded in greeting before he paused in his tracks and slowly turned his head, arching a curious eyebrow. He then furrowed his brow and cleared his throat, "Whatcha doing there, Stiles?"

"Trying to lift Dad's cruiser with my mind," he replied before he grimaced and turned to look at Jordan. The damn car wasn't going to budge anytime soon, "It's a...long story. Could you do me a favor and just...not mention this, like, to anyone?"

Jordan narrowed his eyes in thought momentarily before he bit his bottom lip and nodded, "Hey, so long as you promise not to go all Carrie on us, your secret's safe with me."

Stiles gave him a nod before he turned his attention back toward the cruiser. Practicing his recently acquired power in public probably wasn't the best idea, but he figured if he could lift a car then any kind of baddie that came to town would be a breeze. What did they expect him to do; practice on his baby?

Oh, yeah. That's right; they don't know about his power. He mentally smacked himself before he pulled his phone out to check the time. Crap, he was supposed to meet Derek on the Preserve soon. He put his phone away with a sigh as he left for his Jeep.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Thirty minutes. 

Stiles had been waiting for Derek in the woods for thirty minutes and he was getting irritated. He groaned inwardly as he heard the sound of leaves rustling in the distance. He immediately turned in the direction of the sound, "Derek?" he called out, "Der?"

No response except for more rustling. He rolled his eyes, "Look, you've already had me waiting here for a half hour now. Do you have any idea how long that feels like with ADHD? It's, like, an eternity dude!"

He furrowed his brow at the lack of response before he turned to look in another direction, then dropped to the ground. His eyes widened as he watched a fireball fly over him and into a nearby tree. He quickly turned his head back, pushing himself up to a crouch as he watched the woman approach him.

She had short, wavy red hair and deep brown eyes. Her skin was fair, but not too pale, and she was thin. If it weren't for the sinister smirk on her face, he wouldn't even think there was anything off about her.

Oh, yeah. Let's not forget the freaking fireball?!

Stiles eyed the woman cautiously as he said, "Well, you're definitely not Derek."

The woman chuckled as she held her hand up and produced another fireball, "No, I'm not. Any last words?"

Stiles silently gulped before his expression suddenly stiffened. He tilted his head slightly to the side, "You shouldn't play with fire."

The woman cocked her head to the side before Stiles suddenly raised his hand. The fireball that the woman held quickly grew and spread until it had totally consumed her. She stood before him screaming before she fell into a pile of smoking ash.

"Stiles?!" Derek shouted as he appeared over a nearby hill. "Are you okay? I smelled fire," he said as he approached him.

Stiles gestured toward the pile of ash, "That would have been Ms. Pyro over here. Well, not anymore, obviously."

 

Derek furrowed his brow, "Oh. Guess it's a good thing you got that power, after all."

Stiles nodded before he finally looked over to the werewolf, "I think that's enough practice for today. I need an Advil."

Derek grunted in agreement before he put a protective arm around Stiles' shoulder and guided them back to their vehicles as Stiles quizzed him on why he was so late. 

As they left the Preserve, a gust of wind blew, scattering the leaves as it moved through the woods until it passed over the pile of ashes. As the wind picked them up, they began to swirl around in the air until they formed a silhouette of a female. She moved her arms and brushed off the ash, revealing fair skin underneath. She chuckled softly to herself as she started to make her way through the woods.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

A couple days later, Stiles was sitting on the front steps of his house as his dad pulled into the driveway. The sheriff greeted his son as he passed him on the steps before he paused at the door. A quiet Stiles was never a good thing.

When he looked down at his son, the teen was focusing awfully hard on the cruiser. John spared a moment to look from his son to the car before he arched an eyebrow, "Son?"

"Yeah, Dad." Stiles replied absent-mindedly as he continued focusing on the cruiser.

"I'm probably going to regret asking this...but what are you doing?"

"Trying to lift your car with my mind," he replied lazily as he mentally put more intent behind his power. Still nothing.

John studied his son for a moment and looked at his car again with a furrowed brow before he looked at his son again, "Don't do that."

Stiles let out a sigh as he threw his hands out in defeat, "It's not like it was going to happen anyway."

John raised an eyebrow, "Was it supposed to?"

Stiles cleared his throat, "It's a long story."

John nodded, pondering the idea of hearing said story before he decided against it. He shook his head as he turned to open the front door, "I really don't want to know."

"No," Stiles muttered as his father walked inside and he returned his focus on the cruiser, "you really don't."


	4. I'll Never Tell

"Stiles," Derek growled in an annoyed tone as he passed him to sit down on the couch, "just because you can levitate, it doesn't mean you have to do it all the time."

Stiles shrugged as he lowered himself back down to the floor, "Hey, if you've got it..."

Derek arched a skeptical brow, "And if any of the others just walked in and saw you hovering in midair?"

Stiles' mouth formed an 'o' shape as he nodded. The best kept secrets definitely didn't get that title from utter carelessness. He scratched the back of his neck as he crossed the room and sat down beside the werewolf, "We're going to have to tell them eventually...aren't we?"

Derek offered a solemn nod, "It is inevitable, but we're right to keep it a secret for now."

Stiles shrugged, "Unless we came up with another story to explain it away."

"Oh," Derek said as he raised his eyebrows in surprise, "so we're adding 'liars' to our list of labels?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Well, who says there has to be any labels? We can explain it away with the nogitsune, say it just took them a while to surface, and all of our problems are solved."

"I suppose," Derek replied, "but I don't think it's worth cheapening ourselves with a lie."

He may as well have punched Stiles in the chest with that statement. Did Derek think that he wasn't taking any of this seriously? No, he could worry about that later. 

He turned to look at Derek and couldn't resist the smile from forming on his face as he took in the man's inquisitive stare. Stiles slightly pouted his lips and gave him a peck on the cheek before he lightly tapped Derek's shoulder with his finger, "It won't be cheapening anything between us or about us. If you ask me, the whole succubus situation was strictly between us and it should stay that way."

Derek smiled sadly, "Stiles? You forgot another hitch in your plan--a pretty crucial one, actually."

"Hm? What's that?"

Derek's smile turned into a smirk, "You can't lie to a werewolf."

Stiles scoffed, "That's...that's..." he grimaced as he struggled to think of a valid argument before he hunched in defeat, "that's absolutely true. Damn."

Derek gave him a pat on the shoulder, "Don't stress it, Pooh Bear."

Stiles froze, remaining surprisingly still for about a minute before he slowly turned to look at Derek with a smirk on his face. The strain to hold in his laughter was evident in his voice as he asked, "'Pooh Bear'? The first pet name you use...is 'Pooh Bear'?"

Derek's eyes flashed blue as he stood from the couch and headed toward the kitchen to leave Stiles in a fit of laughter.

"Pooh Bear?!" 

Derek rolled his eyes before he turned and headed back toward Stiles, "Drop it."

Stiles took a few deep breaths to calm down. After he'd collected himself, he smiled up at Derek, "Okay, why Pooh Bear?"

"Just drop it, Stiles."

"No," he replied stubbornly with a shake of his head, "you have to answer that question, Der. It's practically a crime against the universe not to."

Derek rolled his eyes, "Because your eyes are like honey."

Stiles' smile grew, "Aw, that's so sweet."

"Never again, Stiles." Derek said as he walked out of the room.

"Don't you mean 'Pooh Bear'?" Stiles called out with a grin. No, Derek Hale will NEVER live 'Pooh Bear' down. Absolutely NEVER.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Isaac had been fidgety all day and it was starting to irritate Stiles. Lydia had stumbled upon some charred remains, which obviously led to a pack meet, which ultimately led up to Stiles' current predicament of the aggravation of being paired up with Isaac. Why did he have to put him with the most annoying person? Why couldn't he have gone with Lydia? Or Derek? Yeah, he'd probably just be making out with Derek; but Scott didn't know about that. Still, it'd be more fun than this.

He stopped in his tracks and turned to fix the werewolf with the best steely glare he could muster, "Alright, dude. What'd you do, huh? Drink too much coffee again?"

Isaac stared at him bewildered, "What do you mean?"

Stiles furrowed his brow, "Don't play innocent with me, Isaac. You've been, like, super fidgety this entire time and it's getting annoying; which, coming from me, is kind of a bad thing. So, either fess up or knock it off because I am seriously this close to strangling you with that damn scarf. It's 65 degrees, dude!"

Isaac arched a brow, "Well, I guess hanging me wouldn't be too difficult a task for you, would it?"

Stiles' expression fell, "What do you mean?"

Isaac smirked as he stuck his hands into his pockets, "I saw you levitating at Derek's."

It was Stiles' turn to arch a brow, "Were you spying on us?"

Isaac shook his head, "No. I just stopped by because I left my phone there at the last meeting and happened upon you guys. I didn't want to intrude."

"Oh," Stiles said softly. How did Derek not smell or hear Isaac? He shook the thought from his mind and just summed it up to Derek's thought of the inevitability. He looked Isaac in the eye, "Don't tell anyone."

"Or what?" Isaac challenged. His scarf then suddenly tightened around his throat as Stiles curled his fingers by his side.

The human narrowed his eyes, "That's what," he said as he relaxed his fingers, the scarf releasing its grip in the process. He eyed Isaac up and down before he sighed and waved his hand, "You know what? Screw it; tell them."

"I wouldn't," Isaac said as Stiles started to walk away. He bit his bottom lip before he started walking to catch up with him. "I mean, I won't tell. I was just trying to rile you up."

Stiles rolled his eyes and kept walking, "You don't have to do that to rile me up; trust me."

Isaac shook his head, "Damn it; could you not be sarcastic for at least one minute of your life?"

Stiles stopped and looked at him, "That wasn't sarcasm." He then looked around before he exhaled heavily, "I don't see any sign of a supernatural pyro around here." His brow furrowed, "Wait..."

Isaac raised a brow, "What is it?'

Stiles cleared his throat, "It's nothing. I had a run in with someone on the Preserve, but she isn't an issue anymore."

"She?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Yeah, she. She threw fireballs and I made one...well, she was a pile of ash last time I saw her."

Isaac nodded, "Still, there could be others. So, how'd this power thing come about anyway?"

Stiles inhaled sharply, not answering immediately. Should he tell the truth? Well, the longer he took to respond, the more likely the werewolf would be able to tell he was lying. He gave him a short smile, "It's a...long story."

It wasn't really a lie. Well, the supposed long story was actually pretty short, but...minor details. Isaac would have to accept that as an answer for now, because they had a supernatural pyro to worry about. Or some Dahmer guy with a barbecue fetish. Ew, bad thoughts, Stiles. Bad thoughts.

The pair started walking again, a comfortable silence falling on them in the process. Whatever was burning people didn't seem to be anywhere near them; at least for the time being.

Isaac nudged Stiles in the arm, "So how do you levitate?"

Stiles smirked, "I just lift myself in the air. I've gotten up to a half hour of airtime, but usually after that I'm pretty wiped."

Isaac pursed his lips, "Why are you keeling it a secret? I mean, your friends are werewolves, a kitsune, a banshee; you really think we'd have a problem accepting the fact that you have telekinesis?"

"Of course not," Stiles replied, "I just...it's nothing bad, but it's just not something I'm ready to explain yet."

"Then don't," Isaac said in a matter-of-fact tone. "You're not obligated to explain if it doesn't pose a threat to everyone's well being. But why bother keeping something like this hidden? Just looks rather silly to me."

Stiles tilted his head, "What can I say?" He shrugged, "I'm just a dork."

Isaac opened his mouth to retort when his face crinkled. He turned his head to focus in better on the scent he caught before his face turned serious and he grabbed Stiles' arms, "Get down!"

As the two fell to the ground, a fireball zoomed past, grazing Stiles in the arm. He quickly pat the flame out before he turned to look at the woman who threw it. What the hell? It was the woman from the woods. The woman who turned into a pile of ash.

Stiles waved his arm and sent her flying over the parked car behind her. He crouched behind the car they had ducked behind and turned to Isaac, "Run. Running would be a very good thing right now."

"Right," Isaac said dumbfounded before he started to run for a nearby alley with Stiles behind him.

The woman chuckled as she stood up and watched them run into the alley. Did they want to bring a whole new meaning to the term, 'dead end'? She squared her shoulders before she stalked her way after them into the alley.

She didn't fight the delightful smile that formed on her face as she found herself face to face with the lone werewolf. Isaac was completely wolfed out, breathing heavily as he flexed his clawed fingers.

"Where's your friend?" she asked as she searched the surroundings for the human.

Isaac didn't move as he growled and said, "It's not him you need to worry about now."

The woman narrowed her eyes, "Oh, I beg the differ. I can handle a dog."

"Lady," he replied, "I'm about to make Kujo look like a lap dog."

As the woman formed another fireball in her hand, Stiles dropped down from above her and brought her to the ground. She yelled out as she hit the pavement face first. He got up and waved his hand, sending her into the air and into the side of a dumpster. 

"Isaac, we've gotta go!"

"Go where, Stiles?!" Isaac asked as he ran over to him. "If we get to the car, she could blow us up. She'll be able to catch up if we run; let's just finish her off."

Stiles shook his head, "She won't stay dead. Duck!"

The two dodged another fireball before Stiles flicked a few fingers and rammed the dumpster into the back of the woman. She started to chuckle as they ran away. There would be time to play with them later.

After all, she has all the time she needs. Her eyes glistened with delight as a smile crept on her face.


	5. First Impressions, Part 2

"We have to tell Scott," Isaac insisted as he and Stiles pulled up to the McCall house.

Stiles rolled his eyes as he cut off the engine before he turned in his seat. He tapped his fingers on the dashboard as he spoke, "I'm not going over all this with you again, so pay attention. We're going to tell Scott about Pyro Girl, but you are not going to tell him a damn thing about my power, got it?"

Isaac sighed as he looked at the house, "I don't like keeping things from Scott."

"What, and you think I do?" Stiles replied in a more polite tone, "Alright, the way I see it we have a supernatural woman running around town who can hold fire in her bare hands and come back to life after she's been turned to ashes. I think that kind of outweighs my little secret, don't you?"

Isaac shrugged, "Maybe, but I still think it's a stupid idea to be keeping it a secret in the first place."

"Then let me be stupid and drop it." 

Stiles didn't give him a chance to reply as he got out of the Jeep and lightly slammed the door behind him. He had a theory about what they were dealing with, but some things weren't quite adding up with it. He paused when he reached the front door and turned to see Isaac still sitting in the car.

He rolled his eyes and turned back to the door, "It's like freaking deja-vu," he muttered before he walked into the house. If the werewolf wanted to stay in the car and brood, then so be it. Stiles had bigger fish to fry.

"Scott?" he called out as he searched for any sign of his best friend. He continued to speak as he made his way to the living room, "Scott, we've got a serious...problem."

He raised a humored brow as he walked in on Scott and Kira making out on the couch. He smirked as the two quickly pulled away from each other and straightened out their clothes, "Am I interrupting something?"

Scott cleared his throat as he shook his head, "No, not at all." He quickly corrected himself when he spotted a flash of hurt on Kira's face, "I mean, yeah, but you said we had a problem?"

Stiles shook his head, "Not 'had', 'have'; as in still here. Isaac and I ran into a little trouble while we were out. You know...while you two were busy trying to trade tonsils."

"Stiles, what did you find?" Scott asked.

Stiles clapped his hands together, "Right. Well, it turns out the charred bodies are the product of some woman running around town throwing fireballs at people."

"Fireballs?" Scott asked in a skeptical tone, "She can throw fireballs?"

Stiles nodded, "Mmhmm. She can throw 'em, make 'em, the whole deal. But that's not the worst part."

Scott raised his eyebrows, "It gets worse?"

"Yeah, she can, uh...well, she doesn't exactly die. I mean, she dies, but she doesn't stay dead. Gotta love people who break away from tradition, right?"

Scott pinched the bridge of his nose, "That doesn't make any sense. How are we supposed to stop somebody who can't die?"

"Doesn't stay dead," Stiles corrected as he scratched behind his ear, "I have a theory about what she is, but there's a couple problems with it."

Kira straightened her posture, "What do you think she is?"

"Well, it's possible she could be a phoenix. It would explain the firepower and the coming back to life even after she's been reduced to ashes. We didn't see any wings, though."

Scott shrugged, "We didn't see the Siren's wings all the time either, but she still had them. What's the other problem with your theory?"

Stiles sighed as he sat down, "Well, according to myth when a phoenix rises from the ashes it's reborn, as in newborn. She definitely wasn't Baby New Year."

Kira looked from him to Scott before she spoke, "What if she can manipulate the process?"

Stiles smirked as he pointed at Kira, "I like the way you think, Foxy. That would definitely explain it, but we're going to have to get some answers before we can be sure." He looked at Scott, "You think Deaton would know anything about them?"

Scott shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe?"

Stiles nodded, "Right. It's too bad we can't ask Gerard anymore."

Scott stood from the couch and pulled his phone from his pocket. He scrolled down his contacts as he spoke, "Yeah, well I didn't expect Deucalion to give the Siren's heart to him."

Stiles bit back a snicker as he lightly tugged on his earlobe, "Yeah, he took about half of his room with him, too. Do they still think it was a bomb?"

Scott nodded, "That's what my dad says, anyways. Is yours still not filling you in on cases?"

Stiles chuckled, "Yeah, he thinks it'll help keep me out of trouble. I think he's starting to come back around, though. The whole nogitsune/Siren situation kind of wigged him out."

"Stiles!"

The three turned towards the front door as Isaac burst through and ran toward them, "She's here!"

Stiles scoffed, "So you let her chase you into the house? Are you stupid?!" They didn't have a chance to argue as the woman charged into the house, fireball in hand. 

She smirked as she saw Scott's eyes glow red, then her lips curved into a grin as her eyes fell upon Stiles.

"Surprise!" she said before she threw the fireball at him.

He ducked as Scott charged over the couch, flipping it onto its back in the process, and kicked the woman in the chest. As she flew into the wall behind her, Stiles grabbed Isaac and Kira and pulled them to the floor behind the couch.

The three collectively jumped as Scott leapt over the couch and landed next to them. He gave them each a once-over before he said, "We gotta get her out of here before she burns my house down."

Isaac gave Stiles a pointed look, which elicited a groan from the other before he growled in defeat. He gave Isaac a glare before he looked at Scott apprehensively. After hesitating another moment, he got up into a crouch and arched a brow as an idea hit him.

He signaled the other three to move back before he held up his hands and thrust them forward. Scott and Kira's eyes widened in shock as they watched the couch fly across the room in perfect synchronization with his movements and into the woman, who released a pained groan when the couch pinned her to the wall.

Stiles turned to his friends before he waved his finger and caused the window behind them to open. He looked back toward the woman just as she was starting to push the couch off of herself. He looked over his shoulder and gestured toward the window, "Just run as far as you can and split up. As soon as she picks one of us to follow, the rest will circle back and do the same to her."

"Stiles," Scott said in a distant tone, "I don't know what the hell's going on...but--"

"Not now, Scotty." Stiles said as he tried to focus on keeping the couch pinned on the woman. Why couldn't they just go already? His attention was brought back to them when a low whistling sounded from behind him.

As he turned, he was shocked to see that his friends had disappeared. He tilted his head, "Oh, great. Now I gotta track them down, too?"

He shook his head before he turned back to the woman and pointed at the couch with his hand, then flipped it toward him. He stepped to the side, avoiding the couch as it flew past him, his eyes trained on the woman as she formed another fireball in her hand. 

She cocked her head to the side and smiled, "Looks like it's just you and me, baby. I hope you don't take this too personal, but I just can't let you live and risk you getting in my way."

Stiles scoffed, "You clearly haven't heard of our pack. Getting in the bad guys' way is kind of what we do. And by 'kind of', I really mean 'totally and relentlessly'."

He ducked as she threw the fireball before he flung his arm out and over his head, watching as she flew across the room and out the window. He took into the air as she threw another fireball and waved his hand at the two throwing stars Kira had left on the coffee table, sending them toward the woman.

She released a loud scream as the two stars impaled her eyes, blood instantly streaming down her face. She pulled them out and clutched at her face as Stiles lowered himself to the ground. A dark look crossed his face as he silently approached the crying woman before he flicked his hand and sent her flying back through the window and into the floor.

He used his power to keep her pinned to the floor as he curled his fingers in front of him, using his power to strangle her as well.

"Well, it looks like you've gotten yourself into a bit of a jam, just blindly waltzing in here throwing fireballs at everyone." He pouted mockingly, "I'm sorry; poor choice of words? Anywho, I've cut off your airflow, if you couldn't tell already."

He walked around her and perched himself on top of the overturned couch, "Now, what am I supposed to do with someone who doesn't stay dead? Obviously, killing you isn't an option here, and it's not like I can just let you walk out of here. Although, I'm sure just watching the effort would be pretty hysterical, I'd imagine."

She whimpered softly as she turned her head, "Just kill me, please."

Stiles raised his eyebrows, "Oh, you mean kill you so you can resurrect yourself all shiny and new, then attack us again? I don't know. I'm kind of digging this whole helpless thing you've got going for you right now."

The woman chuckled, albeit painfully, "You can't hold me down forever. I don't need my eyesight to kill you."

He smirked before he clutched his fingers again, the woman releasing a strained gasp in response. He narrowed his eyes and bit his lip before he tilted his head, "I wonder if that would work," he thought out loud. He shrugged as if saying 'why not' before he spoke again, "This evil I must now keep. To help me tolerate, make her sleep."

The woman smirked, chuckling for a moment before her head fell to the side and she fell silent. Stiles pumped his fist in victory before he dragged her into the other room and set her in a chair.

He left to find some rope before he came back in and secured her to the chair she was in. He then pulled out the small bag of mountain ash he always carried with him and poured it out in a circle around the chair. 

"That should hold you til we can figure out what to do with you." Stiles smiled to himself before he walked back into the living room. He looked around before he sighed. He wasn't sure the impromptu spell would work, but he thought it couldn't hurt to try and he was glad he did. Maybe the Nemeton was influencing his Spark and it wasn't so much telekinesis as it was an extension of the strength of his mind? A supernatural extension, obviously.

He clapped his hands and rubbed them together as he tried to think of another rhyme. He wasn't even sure how he had sent his friends away in the first place, so he figured a worded form of bringing them back would be safest, "Okay, uh...Return them now from whence they came, the friends I sent that should have stayed."

He looked around with abated breath before he let out a sigh of relief as Scott, Kira, and Isaac reappeared in front of him. He chuckled before he gestured toward the other room, "I knocked her out and tied her to a chair in there. She's blinded and surrounded by mountain ash, so we should be safe. And Isaac?" He looked over to the werewolf, "The barrier for the house doesn't work unless you shut the door after you come in."

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Scott and Stiles were sitting outside on the porch as Isaac and Kira kept watch over the woman. Scott rested his hands on the railing, keeping his line of sight from falling on Stiles, "So, how did you go from Just Stiles to...this? There wasn't an illiterate giant involved, was there?"

Stiles chuckled as he shook his head, "No. It's...kind of complicated, but something happened to me and it sort of swayed my Spark more towards the supernatural influence of the Nemeton."

"Well, you can reverse it, right?" Scott asked.

Stiles furrowed his brow, "Why--why would I want to do that? I mean, I thought about it at first, but did you see what I did to the phoenix?"

"We don't know if she's a phoenix," Scott added quietly.

"Whatever, but did you see it? Scotty, imagine how many more lives we could save with this, man."

Scott shook his head, "If you were meant to have this power then you'd have been born with it."

"What, like you and your werewolfitude?" Stiles retorted. Who the hell did he think he was to say something like that when they both knew he was only a werewolf because of the bite. Stiles sighed as he stepped over to the edge of the porch, "Why are you acting like this, Scott?"

"Look, I'm sorry, alright?" Scott said with a shake of his head, "You saw what happened with Ms. Blake, Peter, Matt? What if you fall off the deep end, too?"

Stiles looked at him as if he had just stabbed him in the chest. "Is that what you think of me? That I would actually kill innocent people?"

He stared at Scott, mentally wishing his best friend would look at him but as each minute passed he lost hope of that ever happening. He looked around and shoved his hands into his pockets before he nodded, "I'm sorry you feel that way, Scotty."

Scott kept his gaze fixed in front of him as he replied with a single nod, fighting every urge he had to stop Stiles as he walked off the porch and toward his Jeep. He wanted to apologize for being such a lughead, but the idea that Stiles had sent them away so he could torture the woman was too strong to ignore, especially with the state she was in when he brought them back.  
Unless Stiles found a way to rid himself of the power, he had to see him as a potential threat. If he were to turn and hurt innocent people, would any of them actually stand a chance of stopping him?

He watched as Stiles drove away before he sighed and turned back toward the house. He had to basically reconstruct the living room and cover up the scorch marks before his mom got home. It was bad enough she would probably ground him for a month for keeping a homicidal pyromaniacal supernatural creature hostage in her house.

Yeah, this was gonna be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Stiles isn't going Charmed on us. His power is pretty much an extension of his mind, and having ADHD I figured he might need a tool to focus his thoughts better, hence why he uses the form of a spell to do the more complicated things with his power.


	6. House Fire

According to Deaton, the woman fit the description of a phoenix perfectly. After his little 'talk' with Scott, Stiles had driven straight to the veterinary clinic to get some answers. Phoenixes are capable of not only creating fire, but manipulating it as well, along with being able to speed up their aging process after they were reborn if they wanted to. What Deaton couldn't tell him, however, is why the phoenix was so interested in taking him out. 

Then, Deaton had asked him where the phoenix was and he told him about putting her to sleep with a little rhyme. If the look on Deaton's face was anything to go by, then the man was definitely alarmed at Stiles' new supernatural developments. 

Why the hell was everybody feeling alarmed of all things? Was it because he'd admitted before that the nogitsune had been nurtured the entire time by Stiles' dark side? Didn't everyone have a dark side? Wasn't the decision to either nurture it or neglect it the line between good and evil?

And who the hell did Scott think he was to be passing that sort of judgment on his best friend? It's not like he'd assumed Scott would maul him and everybody in his path after he'd been bitten by Peter. And he was the one who made out with Lydia on the coach's office! What had he done with his power to demerit his alignment with good? 

Okay, so he accidentally sent his friends somewhere when the phoenix had attacked them in the house, but it was an accident! He just thought he could move things with his mind, not teleport them to God knows where. He felt adrenaline course through his veins as his irritation and anger started to build again.

Even though he was seriously pissed at Scott, he was more worried about his and everyone else's safety with the phoenix in the house. He didn't know how long she would stay out, or if she was even still sleeping for that matter. But he couldn't go back there to find out, not with the look of distrust and fear that Scott had given him.

He knew his power had something to do with his mind, but he definitely wasn't all powerful. He'd tried materializing a million dollars, nothing; a horse, nothing. Even a freaking lightsaber and still nothing. So how did he send his friends away and how did he put the woman to sleep? 

Maybe it was better not to know, not to over think it. But how could he expect to control it, to understand it, if he didn't know everything he could about it? Then again, maybe this was all he was supposed to know about it. At least, that's what Deaton had said.

"Maybe you should try to pay more attention to how you feel when you use your power, Stiles?" He'd suggested during their conversation, "If you can figure out the trigger, figure out the signs that your power is about to do something, then you might be able to control it better without doing something you have no idea how to fix."

Yeah, that conversation had been really helpful in the totally-not-helpful-so-much-as-headache-inducing kind of way. And it didn't get any better when Deaton told him he had no idea how to make a phoenix stay dead.

See, it wouldn't be a problem if she would just turn into a pile of ash and then be forced to grow up naturally after she totally unnaturally rebirthed herself, but no. No, she has to be able to manipulate the crap out of the system and be reborn at whatever age she wants to be! How the hell are they supposed to work around that?

He was pulled out of his thoughts when his phone started ringing. He fished it out of his pocket with his brows creased in confusion when he saw Isaac's name flash across the screen. He swiped the screen to accept the call and put the phone to his ear, "Yeah?"

"Hey, where are you?" the werewolf asked, "The phoenix is awake and I don't think the mountain ash is going to hold her forever."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Well, Scott should have thought about that before he inserted his head up his ass."

"Stiles," Isaac chided nervously, "Scott's an idiot, alright? A loyal, noble, good hearted friend, but he's still an idiot. Look, we could really use your help, alright? I think she's about to--Crap!"

Stiles pulled the phone from his ear as he heard a loud rumbling over the phone...and in the distance. He slid off the hood of the Jeep and over to the edge of the cliff that overlooked the town, where he saw a burst of bright orange flames shooting toward the sky.

His eyes widened in horror as he hesitantly brought the phone back to his ear, "Isaac? Hey, talk to me, dude. What's going on?" But he didn't respond.

He muttered a 'crap' before he rushed into his Jeep and drove through the Preserve as he called another number, "Der, it's me. Look, I need you to get to Scott's as soon as possible, alright? I think something's happened; I'll meet you there."

As he ended the call and set the phone down on the dash, he drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel until he reached the road. Then, he bit his bottom lip as he suddenly jerked the wheel so the Jeep would turn in the other direction and floored it. He knew something bad happened, and he had a strong feeling that he knew what it was.

And he prayed that he was wrong.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Burning pieces of the house continued to fall to the ground as the remaining foundation of the house smoldered, a large pillar of smoke billowing into the air replacing where the majority of the house used to be.

Stiles wanted to scream when he jumped out of the Jeep, barely taking the time to park it as the thought of his best friend and two of his other friends being in the house filled him with worry. He turned a tear-stained face toward Derek's car as he pulled up to the house.

As soon as the werewolf had exited his car, Stiles ignored his questions as he wrapped his arms around him, "Derek, thank God you weren't here! I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you after I just got you!" He turned his attention back to the house and released a sob, "Please let them have gotten out."

Derek's brow furrowed in concern as he placed a comforting hand on the teen's shoulder, his green eyes locked on the burning remnants of the house, "What happened, Stiles?"

Stiles shook his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "The phoenix must have tracked me and Isaac here and she followed him inside. She attacked us and I ended up exposing my power to Scott and Kira. I blinded her with two of Kira's throwing stars, put her to sleep, tied her to a chair and surrounded her with mountain ash. Then, Scott pretty much told me he doesn't trust me with this power, so I left. Isaac called me, said she woke up and I needed to get here and that's when I heard the explosion."

Derek's eyes flashed for a second in momentary anger before he gently squeezed Stiles' shoulder, "She must have done it so she could be reborn and renew her eyesight."

Stiles released a defeated sigh as he fell to his knees, his tear-filled eyes still on the burning building. He'd left a super powerful creature in his best friend's house and now she'd blown said house up, possibly with his friends still inside. He turned his head slightly, "Can you smell them?"

Derek shook his head apologetically, "Not through all the fire and smoke. The mountain ash wood that Scott had installed is mixing in with it so it's preventing me from getting a lock on a scent."

Stiles turned around completely and looked into Derek's eyes, his own covered in anguish and defeat. He drew in a shaky breath before he asked in a hesitant voice, "Is this my fault?"

"What?" Derek asked before he saw Stiles' face contort as a precursor to what he knew would be uncontrollable sobs. He wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer, then planted a kiss on his forehead, "None of this is your fault, Stiles. If you'd stayed then you would have been here when she did this, too."

Stiles shook his head before he pulled it away from Derek's chest, "If I stayed, then I might have been able to do something to prevent it."

Derek growled softly, "Then Scott shouldn't have been foolish enough to push you away."

Stiles shook his head again dismissively, "This isn't Scott's fault."

"You're right; and it isn't yours, either. The phoenix did this and we're going to find her and we're going to make her pay for this. But before we do that, we need to try to find our friends."

Stiles scoffed, "They're probably dead, Der."

"Maybe, but there's still a good chance they could have gotten out. Have a little faith, Stiles. It's not like this is the first time they've flirted with the brink of death."

Stiles shook his head as he turned back to look at the house. He looked on as all of the memories he'd shared with Scott in that house as they grew up burned along with the rest of the house. It was in that moment when he felt a sharp pang in his heart as he heard Derek's quiet sharp inhaling behind him. This must have been hell for him to see this; like reliving the Hale house fire all over again.

He huffed silently before he took a step away from the house and took Derek's hand in his, "Come on," he said softly as he looked at their intertwined hands, "we need to get out of here before the police come."

Derek raised a brow, his eyes still on the fire, "What about the others?"

Stiles shrugged irritably, "If they got out in time then they'll be safe. They're smart enough to find some cover. We can check my house first."

"And if they didn't?" Derek asked in a sorrowful tone.

Stiles drew in a hesitant breath before he spared a final look at the burning rubble that used to be the McCall house, "We're supposed to have faith, remember?"


	7. The Man With the Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited only for spelling errors.

As Stiles and Derek made their way to their vehicles, a gust of wind swept through and they paused in their tracks. As a feeling of eeriness swept over them, they looked at one of the burning piles of rubble and watched as ashes swirled into the air and materialized into the phoenix. 

Derek's face instantly turned wolf as the woman took in her surroundings and smirked as if she had impressed herself. She then turned her attention towards the two and laughed, "Well, I guess we know who the better strategist is now, hm?"

"Go to Hell," Stiles growled as he violently swung out his hand and sent her flying back into one of the very few remaining walls. As he watched her move to stand up again, he spotted one of the beams that uses to support the roof over Scott's porch and waved his hand. The splintered beam immediately flew through the air and went straight through her torso as she finally stood, pinning her to the wall.

Stiles ignored her as she cried out in pain and signaled for Derek to stay where he was. He approached her and flicked his hand, the beam twisting ever so slightly in response, eliciting another pained groan from her. He fixed her with a glare and said in a gravelly voice, "I don't care that you can come back from the dead. If I find out you killed my friends, I swear to you that I will spend the rest of my life killing you again and again as soon as you resurrect until I find a way to keep you dead."

The phoenix chuckled as she narrowed her eyes and grinned, "Sweetie, you're never going to find a way to keep me down; you can't. But, if you want to spend the rest of your life trying then be my guest. I'll just come back again and dance on your grave."

Stiles smirked darkly before he turned around and headed back toward Derek. The phoenix smirked, "So, you're just going to leave me here, pinned to the wall so I can roast some pigs next?"

Stiles froze in front of Derek as the two of them exchanged knowing glances. Did she know his dad was the sheriff? How? Before Stiles could pull himself from his thought and stop him, Derek stormed past and sank his claws into her throat with a roar, then he ripped it out. Blood gushed from her throat for a moment before she suddenly burst into flames and collapsed into a pile of ash.

Figuring it would look suspicious, Derek pulled the beam out of the wall and tossed it aside, then crossed back over to Stiles, "We need to find them, now."

Stiles pointed toward the rubble, "What about her? Der, I can't let her hurt my dad."

Derek shook his head, "And she won't. She's seen we're not playing around now, so if she's smart she'll suppress the urge and wait them out before she resurrects."

As the two drove off in their separate cars, Stiles' thoughts continued to be dominated by their current situation. If Scott and the others survived, then they'd have already called him, right? Unless they dropped their phones or they were damaged during the blast as they escaped. 

And if they were dead, how was he going to stop the phoenix alone? He meant it when he told her he'd spend the rest of his life killing her again and again if she killed his friends, but he wasn't foolish. He would have to find a way to put an end to it eventually.

He'd considered killing her and mixing her ashes with mountain ash, but she would probably resurrect before he even had a chance to get her ashes in the container. Plus, there was no telling it would work.

He groaned in frustration as he applied more pressure on the gas and sped up. When he pulled up to his house, he pulled out his cell and tried Scott's phone. He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise when it went to voicemail and shook his head, hung up, and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.

His face twisted into a cringe as he hit his forehead against the steering wheel, resting it there when his phone rang for a text notification. He reached over and picked it up before he widened his eyes.

'Meet us at the Preserve-K', the text read.

They were alive?

They were alive! 

He still wanted to rip that phoenix bitch a new one, though. She blew up the McCall house, for crying out loud! He sent Derek a quick text to let him know where to go before he put the Jeep in drive and made his way to the Preserve.

 

Scott, Kira and Isaac were all sitting around the base of a tree when Stiles approached them. The teen ran up to them and gave each one a hug before he took a step back and clapped his hands together, "Are you alright?"

"You mean, besides almost being barbecued with my house?" Scott asked in an awkward tone as he reached to scratch the back of his head. He shrugged with a small smile before he put his hand back down, "Isaac dropped his phone while he was darting for the window and mine was charging. Has she come back yet?"

Stiles nodded, clearing his throat before he said, "Yeah, uh, she came back after me and Derek got there."

Isaac raised an eyebrow, "Where is she now?"

It was Stiles' turn to shrug, "Either still ash or working on her next move."

"'Still ash'?" Kira tilted her head, "You killed her again?"

"He kicked her ass," Derek replied as he walked up to them. He put a hand on Stiles' shoulder, "I'd say he definitely got his point across to her. It struck her core--literally."

"Right. Speaking of," Stiles said while facing Scott, "I think I have a plan. What if I erased her memory? I mean, I was able to teleport you guys, technically moving you. Wouldn't that be the same for her memories?"

Isaac chuckled, "Are you high? Stiles, that idea's genius!"

Scott's brow furrowed in confusion, "I don't get it."

Stiles smirked confidently, "Well, she can't resurrect if she doesn't remember that she has that ability, now can she?"

Derek smiled proudly at Stiles before he ruffled his hair. Spotting Scott's curious expression, Stiles waved his hand slightly, "Phoenix now, questions later."

Scott stared at the two of them for a few moments before he nodded slowly. When the hell did they get so...chummy? 

"Yeah...there will definitely be questions later."


	8. A Necessary Evil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are, the last chapter of part 2 of my little arc! It's a little lengthier than normal, but still not bad for writing on my phone. ;)

The phoenix was sitting on in a tree on the Preserve overlooking the town. Her eyes narrowed and focused on studying the town while she considered her next move.

The Nemeton acts not only as a beacon for the supernatural, but it also amplifies their power. Unless one is aware of how to draw on that strength, such as she, they would only feel the slightest pull.

The key was to pull harder. It was like a game of tug of war, and she loved it.

But she wouldn't be able to have fun unless she dismantled that damn pack, and she needed to start with that boy.

That damn Spark. He was proving to be just as irritating as she'd anticipated, yet he'd bested her again and again. Maybe she would target one of the wolves and watch him squirm a little. She'd already blown up one of their dens--houses.

Her right index finger started to tap lightly on the trunk of the tree, her chin resting on her knee as she swung her other leg freely beneath her. She'd sworn a month ago she'd heard a banshee scream. That wouldn't pose much of a problem, but the kitsune might, if she knew how to make her foxfire, that is.

Hearing the shuffling of leaves as something quickly ran in the background, she looked over and spotted a werewolf running parallel to her location. If she moved now she could cut him off before he managed to get away. With a confident smirk, she gracefully dropped from the tree and ran off at full speed.

\-------------------------------------

The werewolf had been passing through California, headed for Montana when he felt the pull. His instincts had driven him here and having sensed the other pack, he just wanted to skirt around them without any confrontation.

"Are you lost, puppy?", asked an innocent voice. When he turned to face the woman, she offered him a friendly smile, "Speak."

He furrowed his brow at the backhanded insult as he took an apprehensive step back, "Who are you?"

The phoenix shrugged nonchalantly as she began to circle around him, "Everyone always jumps to the 'who'. If there's one truth to this world, it's that it doesn't matter who you are so much as what you are. What are you?"

"A werewolf," he replied matter-of-factly.

The phoenix smirked, "A lone wolf? So, I've got myself an omega." She paused to sniff the air before she pursed her lips, "You smell pretty fresh. I'd bet you haven't even had the bite for a month and you're already running."

The omega looked down in momentary shame before he shook his head and looked up at her, "I had no other choice. I--I killed my sister."

The phoenix tilted her head with a grin before she took a careful step toward him, "And the guilt is eating away at you. What if I told you I could help honor her death?"

"How?"

The grin slowly faded, replaced by a menacing grimace, "By avenging her death." Before he could do anything, she'd already created a fireball and thrown it at him.

He flew into the air and landed ten feet away, groaning in pain as his wound began to slowly heal. The phoenix then offered him a mocking pout before she kicked him onto his back, "Such a pretty little face, too. It's a shame you won't have it anymore when they find you."

Without another word, she snapped her fingers and the werewolf became completely engulfed in flames. He roared in pain for several minutes before it faded away, along with the flames. She knew it wouldn't kill him, but it'd keep him still.

She crouched to the ground and propped her chin onto her hand, "Right now your body is trying to heal itself one cell at a time, which means your healing ability is rather busy at the moment." She reached into her jacket and pulled out a double-edged dagger. She flipped it in the palm of her hand a couple times before she slammed it into his chest.

He arched his back, releasing another roar of pain from the dagger stabbing into his torso and from moving his severely burnt body. The phoenix smiled as she gripped the dagger with both of her hands, "I hope you don't mind, but carving's kind of a hobby if mine." She then jerked the dagger and dragged it further down his torso, the wet squelching of the blade cutting and dragging through flesh and muscle drowned out by another pained roar before his back fell to the ground.

Satisfied that she'd successfully killed him, she stood up and turned back toward the direction of the town, "There's no way they didn't hear that."

 

\------------------------------------

 

"What the hell? Oh, oh, that is just...oh my god," Stiles cringed as his eyes fell upon the charred body on the ground before them. Scott and Derek had heard a werewolf howling in pain and said that it was coming from the Preserve.

Scott, Kira, Isaac and Derek all came behind Stiles and stood with him around the body. Scott sank to a crouch and looked at the dagger, "Whoever did this definitely did it for kicks."

"Scott, we already know it was the phoenix. I mean, look at him; he's practically barbecued." Stiles said before his eyes fell on the dagger. His expression fell for a moment, and he quickly masked it when he figured Derek had caught the scent of his unease. This wasn't the place for that, not now.

Isaac crossed his arms, "We should let Sheriff Stilinski know."

Scott nodded to Isaac in agreement before he looked back at Stiles. Noticing the sickened expression on his face, Scott stood up and put a hand on his shoulder, "As soon as we find her, we'll put your plan into action; I swear."

Stiles nodded slowly, "No, I know. It's just--why bother going through all of this trouble? She had to know you would've heard...it."

Kira cleared her throat, "Stiles? What's wrong?"

Catching on to his train of thought, Derek started searching the area around them with his eyes, "She was luring us here."

Stiles exchanged looks with everyone before he turned to Derek, "You, Kira and Isaac need to clear out. Scott and I will handle her."

Derek scoffed, "Stiles, I'm not leaving the two of you to fight this thing."

Stiles exhaled sharply in exasperation, "Der, if she gets past us, then the safety of Beacon Hills relies on you carrying out Plan B. The three of you can't do that if you're dead, now go."

Derek stared at him and said stubbornly, "No."

Stiles held up a warning finger, "Don't make me toss you."

The two of them continued their staring match until Derek finally backed down with an aggravated sigh and left with Isaac and Kira in tow. After watching them leave, Stiles turned to Scott and clapped his hands together, "And then there were two."

Scott smirked as he turned to look at the body again, "What made you freak a little while ago? And don't tell me it was the body because you've seen plenty worse before."

Stiles sighed as his eyes settled on the dagger protruding from the dead werewolf's torso, "I had a nightmare a while back...that I was sacrificing you over the Nemeton." He slowly raises his hand and pointed at the ornate dagger, "And that's what I used to kill you."

Scott's eyes widened, "Seriously? The exact same one? Are you sure?"

Stiles nodded with a grimace, "Yeah, 'fraid so. Freaky, huh?"

"Yeah," Scott replied absently as his brown eyes fell on the dagger as well, "freaky."

The two were interrupted when a fireball flew right past Stiles' head and into the tree beside him. He ducked instinctively before he ran to Scott's side and turned to face the phoenix.

She stood ten feet away from them, her hands clasped in front of her, a smile on her face as if she were at peace with the world. After another brief moment, she tilted her head slightly upward, the tip of her tongue gliding along the edge of her upper lip, "I see you found my message."

"Your message?" Scott asked.

The phoenix nodded, "Yes, you see I'm going to take so much pleasure roasting each and every last one of your little pack."

Stiles waved his hand and hurled her into a tree before he quickly crouched down and pulled the dagger out of the body with a sickening wet tearing sound, then stood back up. He clutched the dagger with a vice grip as he watched her stand.

"Stiles? Now would be a good time for plan A," Scott said.

Stiles nodded in agreement, then looked at the phoenix and said, "Hear these words, hear my plea. I call to you, Powers That Be. I ask you now to set her free, release her from her memory."

The phoenix took a step forward before she swayed in place, reaching a hand to the side of her head. She slowly shook it a couple times before she looked around her, taking in her surroundings. She took an apprehensive step back as her eyes fell on the two males, "Where am I? Who-who the hell are you?!"

"It worked," Scott said with a triumphant smile, which slowly faded as he watched Stiles stride up to the phoenix with purpose, "Wait, what are you doing?"

"What has to be done," he replied in a dark tone as he brought the dagger up, ready to swing it down when Scott grabbed his wrist.

"Stiles, you can't kill her."

Stiles tried to ignore the frightened look in her eyes as he answered Scott, "She doesn't know what she is, Scott. Even though she doesn't think like she used to now, she's still dangerous. What if she hurts someone?"

"We can teach her how to control it, like you taught me."

Stiles shook his head, his eyes beginning to water at the thought of the horror he was about to commit, "If we do that, then we risk triggering her memories. If that happens, we're dead." He looked at Scott and whispered, "It's the only way."

Scott shook his head, "What about Eichen House?"

Stiles scoffed, "Scott, that's crueler than death."

"I can't let you kill her, Stiles."

"I'm sorry, Scott," he said before he sent his best friend hurling through the air. As Scott landed on the ground, Stiles stabbed the phoenix in the stomach, his face contorting into a grimace as she shouted out in pain.

She grimaced as she gasped for breath for a few moments before she finally fell limp into Stiles' chest. He held her until small streams of smoke started to pour out of her body, then took a step back and released her as she burst into flame and fell into a pile of ash.

Stiles continued to stare at it, feeling as if he'd just shattered his very soul, when Scott tackled him to the ground with a roar.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Scott yelled as he straddled Stiles and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

"I did it for everyone's safety!" Stiles shouted back.

"You murdered her in cold blood!" Scott yelled, "You could have let her live! How can I trust you?!"

Stiles yelled as he felt Scott's claws start to dig into his skin through the fabric of his shirt. Instinctively, Stiles waved his hand and hurled Scott away from him again. He quickly sat up and looked at Scott, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Scott asked skeptically as he got back up, "You just murdered someone after I told you not to." He stared at Stiles, disappointment clear in his eyes as he shook his head and turned to walk away, "Just stay the hell away from the pack. Stay the hell away from me."

Stiles' eyes slightly widened as panic began to set in. Before he could even fathom the repercussions, he waved his finger and made Scott trip to the ground before he said, "Hear these words, hear my plea, I call to you, Powers That Be. I ask you now to remedy, erase his recent memories."

Scott groaned as he started to push himself off the ground, his hand bracing the side of his head. He stood up and turned as he looked around before his confused expression landed on Stiles, "What happened?'

Stiles let out a minor huff of relief before he cleared his throat and scratched behind his ear, "The phoenix knocked you out and I took her out--for good. You don't remember?"

Scott's gaze fell to the ground as he searched his mind before he shook his head, "No."

Stiles nodded, "You must've hit your head pretty hard, then. What's the last thing you remember?"

Scott squinted as he struggled to remember, "Finding the body and sending the others away." He looked over at the body, "Where's the dagger?"

"I don't know." Stiles said, "She must've grabbed it during the fight when I wasn't looking."

"Oh. Okay." Scott looked up at Stiles, "Hey, Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you mind if Isaac and I crash at your place? Mine's kind of...well, nonexistant."

Stiles nodded, "Of course, buddy."

 

Scott breathed a sigh of relief as he reached an arm around and hugged Stiles, "Have I ever told you you're the best friend anyone could ever ask for?"

"You may have mentioned it once or twice," he replied with an awkward chuckle.

"Well, it's true." Scott said, ignoring his friend's awkwardness. He patted his shoulder with a grin, "I trust you with my life, Stiles. I always have, and I always will!"

Stiles felt a sharp pang of guilt when he said that. He cleared his throat and offered him the best smile he could muster before he gestured for Scott to lead the way. Before he started to follow, he took a final look at the pile of ash and said under his breath, "I'm sorry."

He lowered his gaze, pausing for a moment of reflection, then started jogging to catch up with Scott.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

"Walden Meers."

Stiles' forehead creased in confusion as he pulled his attention away from the sunset and looked up at his father, "Who's that?"

John sighed as he took a seat next to his son on the top step of the porch, "Walden Meers is the boy whose charred remains you found in the woods. The dental records came back today."

"Oh," Stiles said simply as he started to toy with the loop on the back of his sneaker. "So, what's his story? Sorry, was his story?"

John rubbed the back of his neck, "Fourteen years old, ran away from home about two weeks ago, just two days after his sister was mauled. No one had heard from him since. According to some messages on his Facebook, he was planning to stay with some relatives in Montana. Poor kid."

"Yeah," Stiles nodded absently as he rested his chin on his knee and continued to watch the sunset. "Hey, Dad? What's your opinion on doing something that isn't normally considered good, but if you didn't do it then you could be putting everyone you love at risk of getting hurt?"

John looked at his son, searching his expression for a sign of any answers before his gaze followed his son's and settled on the sunset, "Well, it depends on the situation, I suppose. You know, the world isn't exactly black and white, so it's difficult to tell you for certain. But, what I can tell you is there will be times in your life when you'll have to make a choice between two things that aren't exactly ideal for their own reasons."

John looked at his son and rested a hand on his shoulder, "Sometimes...doing the right thing may require doing the wrong thing, too."

Stiles nodded in understanding, tears forming in his eyes at the thought of what his father would think of him if he knew what he'd done. He looked down at his extended leg and tapped the heel of his shoe against the edge of the step it was resting on, "A necessary evil."

John nodded before he turned to loon at his son again, "Are you alright, son?"

Stiles nodded his head, "Yeah, just a little shook up from the fight with the phoenix still."

John put a comforting hand on Stiles' shoulder before he stood up and started for the front door. He opened it and paused to look at his son again, then walked into the house sighing sympathetically.

Stiles felt his heart rate start to pick up as panic and realization started to kick in. He'd already planned to kill the phoenix, but he knew Scott would be against it if she was amnesiac. It's not like he wanted to kill her. He meant what he said; if she stayed alive then she could either end up hurting someone unintentionally or her memory could be triggered and they'd be back to square one.

He soon found his mind wandering back to that night, with the charred body, the dagger sticking out of it, stabbing the phoenix with the same dagger. The same dagger from his nightmare when he sacrificed Scott.

What if the nightmare was a warning from his power? It occurred around the same time his power presented itself; maybe it was trying to tell him of what was ahead?

A Darach was a Druid who had lost their way and started following a much darker path, and they possessed magic. Could his power really have tried to warn him about the choice he'd be forced to make about the phoenix? And sacrificing Scott on the Nemeton was obviously symbolizing the power creating a rift between them and it ultimately leading Stiles to betray him, like erasing his memory. It was telling him that by killing someone Scott saw as innocent as Stiles saw him, he would be wounding their friendship.

He rested his forehead against the heel of his hands with a groan, "What the hell have I done?"

But erasing Scott's memory of him killing the phoenix wasn't really harmful, was it? Unless that was his problem.

Was his necessary evil really necessary?


End file.
